


Choir Memories

by obsidian_GSD



Series: Christmas at the Cottage [8]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: 31 Days of Ineffables Advent Calendar Challenge 2019 (Good Omens), Advent Calendar, Advent Calendar Drabble, Christmas, Christmas Fluff, Fluff, M/M, Memories
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-09
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2021-02-25 05:15:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 880
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21730666
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/obsidian_GSD/pseuds/obsidian_GSD
Summary: Day 8 - ChoirWhile reading one night, Aziraphale is interrupted by Crowley asking him about Heaven. It takes him a while to find an answer, but when he does, his demon does something completely unthinkable.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Series: Christmas at the Cottage [8]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1560157
Comments: 3
Kudos: 31





	Choir Memories

“Angel?”

“Yes dear?”

“Do you miss it?”

“Miss what?”

Aziraphale looks up from the book he is reading, glancing over the rim of his glasses. Crowley is lounging on the couch next to the armchair, one leg hanging over the back of it. “Miss what?” Aziraphale repeats, lowering his book.

“All of it,” Crowley replies, staring up at the ceiling. “Just... all of it.”

Leaving a finger in the book to save his place, Aziraphale closes it and leans his head back, pondering exactly what his demon could possibly mean. The city? No, not so much. He still has his books, no longer has to worry about people trying to buy them. His bookshop is still around and he can go back to it whenever he wants.

The traveling they used to do all of the time? Sure, it was nice getting to see everything the humans got up to, but traveling constantly... It got old after a while and Aziraphale doesn’t miss not knowing where he was going to sleep on any given night. He can always go visit places and try all of the foods if he wants to.

“Aziraphale?” Crowley asks and the angel slips his glasses off.

“I’m not sure what you mean,” he finally states truthfully. Looking around, he has everything he could ever ask for. What more could he want or need?

“You know! The...” Crowley waves a hand as he thinks. “The being around so many people and the... music and the singing and everything. Do you miss it?”

Aziraphale puts the book down on the table next to his chair, setting his glasses on top of it. “I don’t...”

“I miss it,” Crowley whispers. His voice drops off, but after a beat, he starts up again. “Not all of the time though, just sometimes. I’ll get a flash or a vague... Do you miss any of it?”

The angel looks over at the demon that seems to be melting into the couch and he wonders exactly what is going through that head, but he can’t tell from this angle, can’t see those eyes. “After everything that happened, everything I was put through, I can’t say I really miss it,” Aziraphale finally says. “Early on, before it turned what it turned into... I missed the choirs. They were always so much fun.”

Crowley finally tilts his head at this. “The choirs? Really?” He asks incredulously. “Why the choirs of all things?”

“I honestly can’t tell you,” Aziraphale whispers. “It’s just the one thing I remember that was something enjoyable. It’s really the only thing I guess one could say I miss about Heaven though.”

Crowley hums, dropping his hand once more. A silence falls around them and Aziraphale continues to stare at his demon, wondering exactly where this could have come from. When the silence stretches, the angel clears his throat. “Dear?”

“Yeah?” Crowley whispers, continuing to stare at the ceiling.

Aziraphale watches, wondering, waiting... “Nothing,” he finally says, moving to pick his book up once more.

A few days later, Aziraphale is organizing his books when Crowley saunters in, coats in hand. “Angel?”

Aziraphale pulls his eyes away from his books. “Yes?”

Crowley hands over the angel’s coat, throwing in an eyebrow wiggle as he does. Aziraphale smiles, pretending to huff and takes the offered garment. It’s a short ride, one that seems even shorter with the way Crowley drives, but by the time the Bentley stops, the sun has almost set. “Where are we?” Aziraphale asks as they climb out of the car.

“Just wanted to remind you of the good times,” Crowley says as he walks over to his angel’s side.

Aziraphale goes to ask once more, but when they turn around, his breath catches in his throat as his eyes fall on the beautiful church standing before them. “Oh, Crowley,” he whispers, and even he can hear the concern in his words.

“Come on, angel,” Crowley cuts in before Aziraphale can continue, leading the way.

Aziraphale hears the singing before he sees anything. When glowing lights and hat covered heads come into view, he has to stop himself once more, a hand pressing against his chest. The yard in front of the church is done up for Christmas with people sitting, standing, and walking around looking at the various things. The biggest draw, however, is the church choir singing from a raised stage against on of the walls, a small nativity scene next to them.

When an arm loops through his, Aziraphale turns his head to peer at the being next to him as the sounds of music start to wash over him. “It wasn’t all bad,” Crowley whispers. An angular face moves to look down at him and Aziraphale can’t keep the smile off of his face as he stares past sunglasses.

They end up keeping back a ways, even after Crowley insists that everything will be fine if they move closer. Aziraphale finds he doesn’t need to be close though as he listens to the choir, pressed against his demon’s side. He isn’t sure how much time passes while they stand there, but as he listens, he could later swear he felt something else pressed against him as well, whispering words of love and kindness to him.


End file.
